


Prince and Rat

by GirlyTomboy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU setting, M/M, as cliche as it can get, forgive me plis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7104754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlyTomboy/pseuds/GirlyTomboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Iwaizumi, heir to the throne, is honestly quite sick of it. A chance meeting with the village’s resident rat, however, soon turns his monotonous palace life into a tale of chestnut eyes, stolen dances, and an incredibly misshapen ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince and Rat

Iwaizumi resisted the urge to laugh as another shoulder carelessly bumped against his charge's. Kindaichi scowled before looking hopelessly toward the former when the stranger didn't so much as glance their way.

“Your Majesty, certainly there is a motive behind this idle wandering?” Another civilian pushed past them, but Iwaizumi deftly moved in time for the younger male to get the brunt of the force. “Your Highness wants you back in time for the banquet rehearsal, and just weaving through this mass will take up half that time. At the very least!”

“Of course,” he waved his hand dismissively. “My mother will understand, I just need some fresh air, that's all.”

“Well... if you say so.” The conversation wasn't ending at that, he knew. Kindaichi wasn't one to slack on the job. For that Iwaizumi was grateful, but there were times when his odd skepticism of anyone who wasn't royalty became a bit overbearing.

Hence why he was brought along in the first place.

“Just, I don't know. Smile and wave,” Iwaizumi reassured. He watched Kindaichi do so in the corner of his eye, this time actually chuckling when some mother scooted her child away at seeing the failed attempt of a grin. “Wow, you're almost as bad as Tobio.” 

“Your Majesty!”

“Kidding, kidding.” A retort was on the tip of his tongue, when a flash of unruly brown caught the edges of Iwaizumi's peripheral. Curious, he slipped past another wave of people and ducked into a nearby alleyway. All of Kindaichi's protests were unheard.

He was trying hard not to be seen. That was the first impression Iwaizumi got as he peered down at the huddled form of a young man. A mop of tangled hair was haphazardly blocking his face from view, yet he couldn't help but notice the rich, chocolate brown hue of the locks as it carelessly framed his features. 

“Excuse me,” Iwaizumi started. The man did not move. In fact, the only reason Iwaizumi could tell he was alive in the first place was the precarious heaving of his back with every shaky exhale. He didn't even notice he was eye-level with the man until a hesitant hand reached out and crossed the expanse of his personal space, toward his shoulder.

A bony hand immediately clamped onto his wrist. Equally dark, chestnut eyes- albeit a little dull- snapped up and narrowed in threatening ferocity.

“Don't touch me.” His voice was a raspy, broken noise as it contrasted with the richness of his chocolate hair, his chestnut eyes. Personally, Iwaizumi thought it kinda suited him.

The latter reluctantly pulled back, but not before the thin skeleton of a man pierced him with the sharpest glare he could muster. 

“Ah, sorry,” he apologized, yet was already sidling up beside him. “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, by the way.”

“I know.” Iwaizumi followed the man's not-so-subtle gaze toward the emblem that shone through a sliver in his cloak. An insignia of royalty, the one and only heir to the throne. “Fancy meeting you here, your _Majesty._ ” The sarcasm tacked to Iwaizumi's epithet went either ignored or unregistered. It was hard to discern.

“Likewise. May I ask for a name?”

“Would you like me to grovel at your feet and kiss them too?” He sneered. There was unbridled animosity in his words.

“That's certainly a first, but if you insist-” Iwaizumi paused when his counterpart's face slackened in disbelief and he averted his gaze. The fist of guilt that had punched his gut now wrung it tight as he realized the insensitivity of his comment. He had only wanted to tease, but the ensuing silence quickly had him rethinking the decision.

“Leave.”

The protest was born and died on Iwaizumi's tongue as he wordlessly watched the man lift himself up. Baggy, dirt-stained clothes hung off his wiry frame and dragged pathetically with every shuffle as he made his way to the end of the alley, into the receding shadows. Iwaizumi froze, watching his legs shiver with the effort of every step. “I don't need your pity.”

“Wait-”

“With all due respect, your _Majesty,_ ” his tone turned sour. “I'd rather you not tell me what to do.”

When Iwaizumi blinked, he was alone. Even the echo of bare feet against dirt soon melded with the overwhelming darkness.

* * *

“Your Majesty, you've already visited the town square yesterday. This really isn't the smartest idea,” Kindaichi pleaded. Part of him- a very large part- knew there was no hope in stopping the adamant Prince, but it didn't discourage him in the slightest. “Your Highness won't be pleased!”

“Rebellion is part of growing up, Yuutaro. Maybe if you went out more you wouldn't be so focused on _my_ personal life,” he shrugged, in the midst of buttoning his shirt. The look on his dear friend and charge's face was absolutely priceless as he tried to formulate a comeback. “But your Highness will-”

“Your Highness this, your Highness that, last time I checked you worked for me,” he rebutted, only semi-guilty for egging Kindaichi on. There really wasn't any point; he was already halfway out the door.

“How about I make you a deal? I'll be back before the banquet tonight- and no, you're not allowed to follow, and in return I'll finally arrange your date with Kunimi.” There were many things Iwaizumi was but blind wasn't one of them. The way Kindaichi's eyes lit up and his demeanor brightened around the court official was as clear as the both of them were dense.

He spluttered.

“Wonderful, that's a deal then.” A hand nimbly wrapped the cloak around him with a flourish. “I'll be back before sundown. You have my permission to lie if my mother decides to interrogate. Thank you, Yuutaro!” He shouted at the end, taking note of the flabbergasted, guilt-ridden expression carved on the charge's face. Without time to waste Iwaizumi broke out in a sprint. After a good minute with no Kindaichi in sight, he allowed himself to release a breath of relief.

Honestly, I didn't expect that to work so well...' Ah, the power of true love, indeed. 

As he stealthily avoided any oncoming workers and officials, even going so far as to take the secret trail he had discovered (created) to avoid the security, his mind subconsciously wandered, to feathery brown locks and a pair of large, expressive orbs. Even he didn't know what had overtaken him that moment, to where he would approach someone who clearly didn't want to be approached.

He just seemed so... lonely. Lonely and broken and terribly sad.

Snippets of the conversation came back as he successfully left the premise of his home (he had lived there for two decades; the place had become more of a playground than an impenetrable castle at that point). A startling revelation nearly halted him in his tracks. Nearly.

_Was_ it pity?

… No, Iwaizumi concluded. He was curious. If it was pity, that young man would have left with food, water, and the promise of more wealth than he would probably see in a lifetime. 

Iwaizumi carefully adjusted the hood of his cloak as he signaled a nearby driver and directed them to the town square. Soon enough, the single dirt road merged into stone as the sound of galloping tapered into the faint hustle and bustle of townspeople going about their day. 

He paid the man and sped toward the thought of hardened eyes and sharp tongues. When he approached the entrance to the alley, it was with mounting disappointment that a cold darkness welcomed him.

Iwaizumi took a wary step, then another, until the sharp _click-clack_ of his boots echoed against the paved wood. A shuffle to his right alerted the noble to a shadow carefully edging its way further down the alley. 

“Hey, you! Wait!”

“I told you to leave!”

Thoughts abandoned, he rushed toward the sound of the pithy remark, but even the willowy lilt of _his_ voice teetered on the cusp of vanishing into thin air. It wasn't long before his sight adjusted to the scrawny figure trying to scramble away. Frantic fingers grasped at nothing just as the man from yesterday ducked into an opening.

He waited a beat.

Iwaizumi counted to a lengthy minute just as he pulled himself through the dark and ragged hole, big enough to barely fit a human-

And promptly received a hard fist to the gut.

“Hah,” he puffed out, instinctively curling in on himself. “I should have seen that one coming...”

Although narrowed, the edge in the young man's eyes seemed to light up the surrounding darkness; Iwaizumi tried focusing on that, to distract from the pain in his stomach. A lopsided grin subconsciously pulled at his lips as he glanced up expectantly. “So about that name-”

“Okay, look. I don't know what the hell a noble would want from me,” he trembled as something bitter crept into his voice and lingered, “and to be honest, I hate every single one of you too much to care.” Shoulders tensed as he took a staggering step back, away from Iwaizumi, until the shadows reached out to claim his brittle form.

“So _please_ , I'm begging you, just... leave me alone.” In a rare moment of vulnerability and that terrible sadness again, he bowed his head- rather, he let it drop in an attempt to shield himself from looking straight at the face of Iwaizumi, straight at the face of a person he had been forced to plead to yet despised with every fiber of his being.

A subtle pain gripped at the latter. This pain was different, not so tangible- like an itch under one's skin that couldn't be scratched. Except, Iwaizumi noted as he reluctantly straightened up and prepared to clamber out of the dingy space, itches didn't leave gaping holes in one's heart, and sure as hell didn't come from the crumbling shell of a man who must have had everything he cared for stripped away.

All he wanted was a name, yet even that he was afraid to ask for.

“I... I'm sorry for bothering you, then.” Golden brown eyes remained fixated on the floor. “It was pretentious of me to violate your privacy like I did. You won't see me again, that much you have my word.” He turned then, back toward the opening.

Iwaizumi felt compelled to look over his shoulder, though he doubted he would get another glimpse of the man's face. Instead, he reached into his pocket and tossed the item toward the general area of the latter's feet. It skidded across the stone ground before unceremoniously tipping over.

“I used to wear it a lot when I was a kid. It's hideous, I know, but I welded that necklace myself,” an awkward chuckle escaped his lips, “I was actually really proud, for an eight year-old. Of course, I did set the room on fire... and nearly blinded myself... Sorry, I'm rambling.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, nearly halfway through the entrance.

“Either way, it's helped me through some of my toughest times. Kind of like a good luck charm.” Iwaizumi saluted from somewhere above. A bright smile lit up his face. “Just... Hang in there!” He finally willed himself to look away. 

'I definitely need to work on my people skills.' 

A rush of wind berated him as the road opened to the moonlit path of the alleyway. To Iwaizumi's surprise, it carried with it a murmur, barely audible, yet to the noble struck a harmonious chord within him as it processed. Hell, he was practically bouncing as he voiced a final ave towards the encroaching shadows, where a pair of chestnut defiance and bony words remained hidden from view.

* * *

“Oikawa Tooru...” The name rolled off of Iwaizumi's tongue before settling at the tip. He liked it.

“Hajime!” A woman's voice echoed across the expanse of the ballroom. His mother's dainty figure was quickly approaching him, sharp eyes honing in on her son as she neared about arms' length.

A smile broke out on her features as they embraced.

“Mother, you look lovely as always,” he grinned.

“As do you, son,” she reciprocated. Before she could talk again, Iwaizumi quickly cut to the chase. 

“Mother... You never did mention why we were holding this banquet in the first place.” The implication traveled across the expanse of his lips to his mother's. She paused, enough to warrant some red flags in the former's head. The mirth soon gave way to an age-old wisdom as he talked, one that undoubtedly scared him. Just a tad, of course. “Mother...?”

“Hajime,” she began, unperturbed. “Your birthday is nearing, and it won't be long before the kingdom expects a new ruler to lead them. Your father would have thought the same,” she reminisced, faintly nostalgic. 

Ah, he should have known.

“Mother, I would rather prefer it if you gave me enough time to find a true partner. My coronation can wait, and you have been ruling this kingdom alone for the past two decades. What is to say I can't do the same?” His tone hardened.

“Hajime, the circumstance called for it. Our people will soon need stability, and so do you. Not once have I seen you even remotely interested in pursuing any type of romance. Take this banquet as an opportunity. Your potential soul mate could be out there, in the crowd. Prince or not, a young man still needs to enjoy his youth before it ends.”

“But, mother-”

“I'd hate to force an arranged meeting. At least consider all these lovely ladies who spent their time and effort just to see you,” she ended. Her hopeful tone stopped Iwaizumi mid-rant. 

“... Fine, I'll talk to them...” He acquiesced, and subsequently broke the tense ambiance as joy filled the air once again. His mother clapped her hands ecstatically, like a child. “Thank you, son!”

Iwaizumi was nudged toward the crowd, which he had been dutifully avoiding the past hour or so, to which he slowly made his way down the steps of the grand staircase. And accidentally caught the gaze of a nearby female. Shit.

Contrary to popular belief, Iwaizumi didn't openly seek interaction. He could hold conversations just fine, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy some quality Iwaizumi-time either. It just so happened that the urge to do so coincided with the very same night they decided to host one of the largest banquets of the decade.

“Your Majesty!” She called. A swish of silk alerted him to the dainty woman, no doubt a noble he'd be wise not to piss off. “I've been waiting for you,” she elegantly curtsied. Up close, he found himself scrutinizing her features- small mouth. Button nose. Bright, brown eyes. 

“Ah- A pleasure meeting you...”

“Hashira Rie. My father's kingdom is located in the East. I couldn't contain my excitement when I heard you were looking for a suitable partner!” Iwaizumi counted each time Rie batted her lashes with mounting discomfort. 

“Apparently so. Well, if you need me-”

“Nonsense! The night is still young,” she linked arms. “Shall we get some drinks?”

Rie's bright eyes gleamed as she sped them off. Iwaizumi couldn't help but think they were a little too bright for his liking.

* * *

As of late, counting had become a regular occurrence for the Prince. Counting minutes. Counting responsibilities. Counting marriage meetings. Counting all the times Kindaichi had yelled at him for spacing out. Simply put, he was exhausted of anything that had to do with numbers. 

Which, although it was probably detrimental to his mother's (and Kindaichi's) sanity, was why he currently found himself perusing the local village's marketplace, where a jubilant echo of cheers had beckoned to him. The people were in the midst of a festival.

Damn, did it feel good to be away from the palace. Away from royal pain in the butt responsibilities. Away from potential brides he didn't even bother considering. Don't get him wrong, they were all lovely. 'Just, not as lovely as freedom,' Iwaizumi concluded.

That, and chestnut eyes. 

Immediately, he berated himself. It had been nearly three months since their farewell. He'd been doing fine so far, bar the occasional lingering thought whenever, if ever, he had some time to spare. But it seemed even that wasn't enough to dispel his curiosity. Certainly their impromptu goodbye didn't. 

A brown mop of hair jumped into view. He nearly broke his neck in a sudden bout of frenzy. Iwaizumi caught looks with an older man, his receding hair a thin line atop his head. False alarm.

'I've been tense this entire time...' He realized. It was early evening, and no matter how hard he had tried, the hours had undoubtedly been filled with thoughts of Oikawa Tooru. It wasn't too long before dusk would settle, yet he still struggled to fully enjoy the day. Maybe a quick search-

“Get outta here, you fucking rat!”

An encore of similar obscenities followed, then a muted thud as Iwaizumi turned just in time to see the Oikawa Tooru getting kicked in the gut. His thin frame, exactly as Iwaizumi remembered, trembled from the brunt of the force. A pained grimace blossomed onto hollowed cheeks and dry lips as he shakily stood from his fetal position. Another kick sent him scrambling around the nearest corner. Crass insults armed with animosity chased in hot pursuit. 

It wasn't long before he caught up to him. The young man was ducked behind a trashcan, in the midst of swallowing the bread he had presumably stolen. Without thought, _again_ , Iwaizumi reached out and gently tapped his wrist.

There wasn't much calm before the storm, much to his disappointment, as Oikawa's eyes burned with shock and horror. His posture turned rigid at the realization that there really wasn't a way out. He was stuck. Caged. 

“You look just about ready to scratch my eyes out,” Iwaizumi commented. The uncertain smile on his lips hid his excitement at seeing a shimmer of metal peeking from underneath the latter's tattered shirt. His face, on the other hand, was tightened in a perpetual scowl. He quickly stood up, crumbs cascading down like raindrops.

Iwaizumi took a step forward. He took two steps back. And then, without much warning, jerked forward to push his way through. Oikawa was stronger than he looked, and managed to almost knock him off his feet in a hasty attempt to flee. All was for naught, however, as he quickly caught his wrist and yanked him back. His head accidentally slammed against the wall (...oops). 

“Hey, you're gonna go back out there? After they treated you like crap?”

Oikawa's lips curled into its signature snarl. “If it gets me away from you, then yes.” He said defiantly.

Iwaizumi was about to retort when the sound of a fiddle violently struck the air around them. Clapping soon followed, and he found that the thunderous march of stomping feet and fervent cheers drowned him out long before the words left his mouth. The sun had just sunken below the horizon, its dying peak barely visible from over the mountains. On any other day, villagers would have been packing up, the town square devoid of all life. Tonight however, the setting of the sun encouraged another round of booze in the midst of careless celebration. This time, with music.

Thousands of lights lit up street and sky alike as Iwaizumi's grip on Oikawa's wrist slackened. He watched, entranced, as a flurry of artists transformed the village right before his eyes. Sure, a palace banquet was grand and all, but not of _this_ caliber, the Prince thought.

“Woah...” 

“Geez, it's not that big of a deal.” Oikawa's interruption had him wheeling around. Was it mockery he heard in that tone? 

“Not that big of a deal? It's amazing!” He was just surprised Oikawa hadn't run away yet. On the contrary, he seemed a lot more relaxed. Of course, the young man still looked on the verge of ducking behind a corner, never to be seen again. But for the most part, the change in topic eased the tension just a bit. Iwaizumi's gaze inadvertently focused on the metal around Oikawa's neck, its rounded band glinting more than ever in the lanterns' light. 

“Do you want to dance?” He blurted. And regretted almost instantly.

Oikawa reeled, a faint look of horror dawning on his face. Just on cue, the celebratory music ebbed away, until a smoother lilt calmed the frenzy around them. The crowd was now shifting more toward the town square, taking with them the blithe atmosphere. A lantern light flickered haphazardly above. Iwaizumi just shot him an expectant stare.

“No. Absolutely not.”

He stepped forward and bowed, the faint ring of music playing in the distance. Oikawa did not reciprocate. Iwaizumi spun on his heel, and offered a hand. A smile danced across his face. 

He stepped forward, then back, until a rhythm was established. Oikawa had yet to follow, though the way his eyes trailed his feet was good enough of a sign. 

“Just this once.”

“I don't trust you.” He was being difficult. Iwaizumi sighed, his steps eventually halting.

“Look, I'm sorry for breaking my promise. But... humor me, please? After this, I swear, I'll cut off all ties with you. No more chance meetings. I won't even come back here. I just... _need_ this.” And Iwaizumi believed it; he'd known ever since he stepped into the town square. His coronation was approaching, and his mother had already planned another marriage meeting.

Sensing the change, Oikawa hesitated. What shifted inside him, he hadn't a clue. But then his bare feet moved into a small shuffle, and Iwaizumi suddenly found it extremely hard to contain his grin. He offered a hand. It was with a giddy excitement that he watched Oikawa place tentative fingers over his own. “Shall we?”

It wasn't a dance per se, more of a steady rock as the music made its way around the bend and back toward the direction it came from. The incessant chatter of drunken feet and obnoxious cheers became more discernible, yet they paid no mind. He was too busy observing the downcast shadow of Oikawa's face. Hardened features remained stubbornly toward the ground.

Iwaizumi rocked back and forth, and then with a flourish spun them around, hand subconsciously tightening its grip. He internally committed the picture of Oikawa's half-startled, pathetic attempt of a glare to memory. “Loosen up! You look like you're plotting your escape or something.”

“That's because I am,” he said. Yet made no move to pull away. The noble leaned in just a tad, and with clarity noted the height difference between them. Their rocking easily sidled into a slow glide, feet shuffling against the concrete in tandem with the ebbing music. An air of tranquility settled between them, despite the clamorous crowd as they made their way back. 

“... Oikawa-”

The spell was broken in an instant as he realized the mistake he just made. His eyes enlarged in alarm, then narrowed, as he remembered exactly where they were. Damn it. 

He really did flee that time, bumping into Iwaizumi as he jumped to the balls of his feet and launched himself-

Straight into Kindaichi.

“Your Majesty! We've been worried sick!” Oikawa shrugged him off, not deterred in the slightest. Kindaichi began spouting some nonsense about the Queen and royal duties, and although it looked comical from Iwaizumi's perspective, it was enough to turn heads. Whispers erupted in a flurry of disbelief, skepticism, and at last, revelation. 

An oncoming barrage of shouts and ecstatic cheers assaulted them as Oikawa was pushed out of the fray, in time for the villagers to press against Iwaizumi and Kindaichi. The Prince tightened his hold on the hood of his cloak. He had screwed up.

'Damn it! Why was I so careless?!' He mentally chastised, in the middle of mustering up all of his strength. Likewise, Kindaichi tugged him along, away from the bombardment of questions and boisterous praise.

Oikawa was nowhere to be seen as he finally found an opening and charged through with a desperate grunt. With no time to waste, the two began sprinting away from the town square, away from the amalgamation of equally crazed and awed villagers. Some even ran in pursuit; He ignored them as the scenery raced past. Kindaichi soon overtook him, and signaled to the carriage conveniently waiting at the edge of the road. They hopped on, the sound of galloping horses imminent in their ears as they rode back to the palace.

“Did you tell my mother?!” 

“I had to, Your Majesty! This is detrimental to your health, and not to mention how many obligations you have neglected just to-”

“It was only one day, Yuutaro! What heir to the throne can't even see to his subjects?” He challenged.

“Your Majesty, we both know that isn't the case.”

Iwaizumi stopped in the midst of his sentence.

“I've seen the way you look at him,” the royal charge urged. “And I've seen the way they've treated him. If you continue with this, the kingdom will be outraged! We'll be the laughingstock of the entire land if the heir to our throne marries some-”

“Peasant?” Iwaizumi seethed. “Trash? _Rat?_ ”

“Your Majesty, that's not what I meant!” He argued, but at that point Iwaizumi had already committed to disregarding him for the rest of the night. Instead he focused his sights on the window, the lights from the festival diminishing the closer they got to the palace. 'I didn't even bid him farewell.'

Oikawa was sure to hate him, even more so than he already did. That, Iwaizumi knew.

But God, their _dance_.

It had been a good nervous. The excited nervous, being around Oikawa, that he hadn't ever felt around anyone else. It was strange, completely foreign, and at the time not wholly unwelcome.

An epiphany reached him then, one that unquestionably crushed any giddiness he had at the memory of their dance, which by now seemed like an eternity ago.

“Yuutaro, I'm in love...”

And it was terrifying. 

Kindaichi tensed beside him. He didn't utter a word, didn't need to. Iwaizumi's head dropped and his back hunched. The usually energetic noble had his forehead cradled between open palms. It was noticeable behind the mask he wore- the marriage meetings, the increasing workload, and the pressure of an upcoming coronation had clearly left him exhausted. 

Kindaichi truly desired happiness for his Prince, hence why he'd ignored the open gates and missing cloak that morning. But then he had returned to the village, to the sight of the unkempt, young man dancing barefoot with the Prince, the one he'd noticed that very first day they sneaked out. He had his fair share of tragedy to know how such a scenario would end.

“... Your Majesty, we've arrived,” he said. When the horses pulled into the courtyard, it was with great urgency that Iwaizumi immediately launched out of his seat. He marched up the steps without a glance back, leaving an equally distraught Kindaichi in his wake.

* * *

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He wasn't supposed to get married so soon. He wasn't supposed to take over the crown. He wasn't supposed to fall in love. Iwaizumi swore under his breath, forearm rubbing viciously over tired eyes. He rolled onto his side, stopping when something sharp jabbed him on the leg. 

A reach into his pocket procured a misshapen, metal ring hung loosely on a silver chain.

Without another thought, Iwaizumi tossed it with mounting defeat at the nearby wall. It clanked against wood before skittering haplessly across the floor. Oikawa may as well have spat in his face and walked away.

“... Hajime?” A muffled knocking came from the far end of his room.

“Mother, I'm not in the mood,” he said. He heard her suck in a breath. The oak doors creaked open anyways.

“Son, this is for your own good. I've canceled the marriage meeting for now, but you must let that young man go,” she pleaded. There was a hint of sympathy there, but he was too overwhelmed to notice. Instead he chose to remain silent.

“Love is... confusing.” The Queen took a place beside him, a hand tentatively settling on dark, brown locks. Empathy laced her words. “It is calm, angry, happy, sad, frightening, all at the same time. But it is powerful, Hajime. I've seen it empower and destroy many in my years as Queen. I was one of them, your father was one of them. You haven't truly loved yet, I don't blame you for today,” she paused.

“But he's-” Iwaizumi cut her off, voice somewhat muted by the pillow he had stuffed his face into. “Oikawa Tooru is, well, angry most of the time. But interesting. And kind, and sad. And just so incredibly _beautiful_ , Mother...” he ended hopelessly.

The ruffling of his hair stopped. If he could see, his mother had her lips pursed, gaze thoughtful as she observed her son in a new light. The pause lengthened, until the bed dipped as she rose to her full height. A long sigh settled in the space between them.

“Just give it time, son. Your feelings will right themselves eventually.” She patted his back one last time before elegantly crossing the expanse of the room, picking up the neglected chain on her way.

“Mother, just toss it.” Iwaizumi didn't divulge anything else, and his mother didn't pry as she slipped the item into her pocket. The door shut quietly behind her, in time for him to fruitlessly bang his fist against the sheets.

If this was love, he regretted ever falling in the first place.

* * *

It was a bustling day for everyone in the kingdom. Servants tidied up the courtyard as officials barked orders around. The knights could be heard in the far distance, rehearsing their march. The royal band practiced their trumpet voluntaries with all the pomp and circumstance they could muster. The thrum of conversation rang throughout the estate as villagers crowded the closed gates. Some pushing, some pulling, the occasional crying.

The inside was just as chaotic, albeit tenfold. Whereas before the castle was considered grand, now it was utterly awe-inspiring as nearly every nook and cranny was transformed to the caliber required of a newly anointed king. The foyer and ballroom were by far the most impressive, reserved for the elite guests sure to attend the reclusive after-party. It seemed everyone had at least something to do.

Except for Iwaizumi, that was. 

The soon-to-be King was situated comfortably in the lap of an oak tree, nestled in the corner of their vast garden. The rare moment of solitude was one he snatched when the maids had looked away. The paperwork was filled, the meetings had concluded, and his attire wasn't due to be fitted for another half an hour. A little nature never harmed anyone.

Unfortunately, as he was so accustomed to now, solitude was often the catalyst for deep thinking.

'Nearly nine months.' To everyone else, that was enough for him to mature into a fine young man, ready for the throne. It was by a hair's breadth he even managed to convince his mother to hold off on the marriage aspect of it all. 

Because to Iwaizumi, nine months was not even remotely enough to forget about Oikawa Tooru. 

Sure, the thoughts had strayed less and less, but there was still a faint, dull ache whenever he closed his eyes to the striking features of the “rat” he'd chanced upon a year ago.

“Hah, maybe once I'm King...” though he knew it was futile. The people held more power than they thought. 

Kindaichi's distinctive voice called from nearby, effectively stopping his train of thought. “Guess it's time,” he mulled. Nonetheless, he was still going to be crowned King in front of the entire kingdom; he couldn't stop the nerves even if he tried.

“Just hang in there.” 

That was the mantra he repeated as he rushed to meet Kindaichi, as he got dressed, as his mother bestowed upon him the former King's crown several hours later, as the crowd cheered in the wake of a new ruler.

Everything passed by in a starry-eyed rush, and all too quickly Iwaizumi found himself seated before dukes and duchesses, barons and baronesses from their land and the next as fine gifts were laid out before him.

“Your Majesty, it is with great honor that our kingdom humbly presents this gift to you,” an elderly royal bowed, placing the small chest at his feet. Iwaizumi stood to ironically, lower himself to the former's eye level. He placed a hand on his shoulder and with a wide grin he hadn't shown in nine months, smiled and thanked the man. The nagging weight of the crown rested a bit too heavily atop his head.

Such encounters continued for the next hour or so. Never before was the King so grateful towards Kindaichi for reprimanding him every time he fell asleep during their studies; it was hard keeping up impressions when drowsiness kicked in. As the steady stream of presents stopped, his mother clinked her glass thrice.

“On behalf of the kingdom, I would like to thank everyone who attended the coronation of our new King!” The crowd applauded and cheered. “Before I relinquish the night to you, we have a few speakers to commemorate this occasion, and to ensure the future unity of this palace and this kingdom,” she politely clapped, before announcing the first person-

Kindaichi.

The poor guy was on the verge of tears as he addressed Iwaizumi. Spouting stuff about knowing him their entire lives, the ups and downs, the almost-burning of the entire castle. He listened attentively, of course, but there was only so much a man could take, especially when Kindaichi started bawling. A chuckle involuntarily escaped.

“DON'T YOU LAUGH AT ME, YOUR MAJESTY.” He sniffled.

The next few speeches weren't as entertaining, though they were still nice. With the exception of the first, everyone else had been nobles of renowned status- endless lists of their accomplishments had been compiled and read, some reaching the lengths of the actual speeches. Still, he listened.

It wasn't until the very last one, when the novelty of the coronation was starting to acquiesce to weariness, that specifically piqued his interest.

“I would like to personally introduce our last speaker,” his mother announced. “It wasn't until recently that I have had the pleasure of meeting this person. He is a true gentleman whose humble background is certainly not one to flaunt, yet here he is. He has garnered my full support in establishing the very first program in this kingdom designed to aid those less fortunate than us. In my years as ruler, I have never before met someone as kind and dedicated to caring for the needs of our people.”

The crowd was silenced, all sans for a pair of feet making their way to the center. Iwaizumi's breath halted- rather, it was ripped from him. 

“I would like to welcome Oikawa Tooru.”

Even at such a prestigious event, Oikawa Tooru still managed to stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe because it was such a prestigious event that he captured Iwaizumi's attention so quickly. Oh, who was he kidding. The brief mention of his name had him upright in his seat.

Oikawa Tooru, however, had yet to glance at him. He was too busy trying to ignore all the stares. From afar, Iwaizumi could make out the impatience building in the way his entire body tensed. 

The most drastic feature was his hair. It no longer stood up at funny angles, and not a tangle could be seen as his bangs swept outwards and the feathery locks complemented his face. Dare he say, Oikawa looked nice, despite still being a bit under dressed (something he found more endearing than anything).

“Thank you for inviting me,” he said, though it was directed more toward his mother. The rasp was definitely still present, subtly underlining the surprisingly smooth intonation of his voice as his gaze across across the room. And landed on Iwaizumi.

It was disconcerting being on the other end of the spectrum, to say the least. Oikawa's stare remained fixed, calm even, while he was on the verge of exploding. Suddenly, every single emotion he's ever recalled in the past twelve months came flooding back- the tumult, the toil, the joy, the excitement. He was becoming irreversibly undone in the expanse of mere seconds. 

“... and I wish you the best in your endeavors, Your _Majesty_.” There it was again, that hint of sarcasm he was almost positive was not from his imagination. Iwaizumi's vision focused, not realizing he had zoned out for the duration of the short speech. A pair of dark, brewing eyes still latched onto him. 

“A-As do I,” he said, trying to remain unperturbed in the presence of guests. “Good luck to you too... Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi's mother broke the silence at the opportune moment, and claps erupted from the crowd as everyone was just eager to mingle the night away. He released the talon-like grip he had on his arm rest, knuckles returning to their original shade as he slowly got up from his seat. It was with extreme difficulty that he returned the praises with all the fake joy he could muster. 

At that point, the attendees were tantamount to the Red Sea itself as Iwaizumi tried to weave through the plethora of moving limbs. He could see the top of Oikawa's head- the man actually was quite tall- bobbing away, but willed himself to slow his pace to someone's who wasn't completely and utterly frazzled beyond compare. He was about to make his way up to the grand staircase, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“I'll save you the trouble,” Oikawa spoke. “We need to talk, anyways.” 

* * *

The air was wrought tight between the two men as they sat as far away as the bench allowed. Iwaizumi was just grateful the garden had been one of the few places untouched. Not many in the castle knew of its location, never mind the hundreds of visitors that had briefly visited that morning. There were no decorations, shimmering lights, not even the faint sound of music.

Beside him, Oikawa drew in a shaky breath. 

“My father used to work here, for the former King,” he started. From what I could remember, he was one of the higher-ranking officials. I was proud of him.” That was certainly a surprise. The Prince-now-King assumed Oikawa had always hated anyone even remotely involved with royalty.

“He was extremely loyal, and sometimes I wondered whether he loved us or the King more. He always left early, came home late, and was absolutely in love with his job... But then, right before the village festival-”

“Someone had staged a coup d'etat, and the entire palace revolted.” Iwaizumi couldn't help but finish. He had been in his parents' chambers that day, when a loud explosion had rocked the foundation of the castle. He remembered being whisked out, and whatever snippets his childhood memories could conjure were of a dark, musky room. Huddled in the corner, waiting. Listening. Fearing for his life. 

“Y-Yeah,” Oikawa continued, voice choking a bit. “When your mother sought me out some months ago, she had explained to me in detail. Apparently my father was there when members of the rogue faction had stormed in. They distracted them, and she escaped in the nick of time to call for reinforcements. Even captured, the King had stood firm, but you probably already knew that...” he trailed off awkwardly, for the first time seeming considerate of Iwaizumi.

“I... didn't realize at first. I blamed the past King. Our family lost whatever status and wealth we had, and we suffered without my father. I didn't know about the revolt. My mother soon fell ill, and eventually... Anyways, I was blinded, and despised people like you. At least,” Oikawa sighed, defeat pulling at his already pallid complexion. “I _thought_ I did. I guess what I'm trying to say is,” he looked up this time, eyes locking earnestly with Iwaizumi's.

“I'm really sorry for all the horrible things I've said to you.”

It was the most he'd ever spoken and was about to continue too, if not for the arms that wrapped around Oikawa Tooru's broken, trembling body.

“It's all in the past. I've recovered, the palace has recovered, this entire kingdom has already moved on. And plus, I'm really sorry too.” He pulled them in closer, until they rested comfortably under the canopy of the large tree. “For bothering you when you clearly wanted to be alone. For digging up buried memories.”

“'S nothing,” Oikawa said, his reply muffled. Iwaizumi couldn't resist chuckling.

“So we're both forgiven? That's good. I was wondering when you were going to reciprocate my generosity.”

“Generosity my ass.” His brown hair followed as he shook his head. Iwaizumi only tightened his hold.

They stayed like that for a while, neither daring to break the silence. It was nice, odd, and exhilarating all at once, if Iwaizumi's speeding heart rate was any indication. He just hoped that his counterpart couldn't hear. 

It was at that moment that Oikawa chose to pull away. Iwaizumi's short bout of panic soon turned to curiosity as he knelt before him. Oikawa rummaged through his pockets, and from his hand retrieved the very same thing he was nearly certain he'd gotten rid of for good.

“To commemorate the occasion...” The new King instinctively bowed his head as he felt the metal slide around his neck. He glanced up only for words to escape him, the face of a beaming, albeit nervous Oikawa all he could actually register at the moment. “Did you know? This was welded from one of the most renowned men in the kingdom.”

“H-How?”

“Your mother is quite the formidable woman.” His expression turned thoughtful, only to morph to shock as Iwaizumi surged forward again, this time knocking foreheads as he crushed him in a bear hug. 

_'Thank you.'_ He repeated it like a mantra, until thoughts blended into sentences, and those soon melded with the intensity of the rich, night air. Oikawa's own arms wrapped around his frame. For once, they were both content, and that was enough.

If this was love, then it was by far greater than any riches Iwaizumi had ever laid eyes on. 

**Author's Note:**

> ok i'll show myself out now


End file.
